Elfling's Bad Day!
by Horsegirl01
Summary: Legolas has a very BAD day. Short story complete with a little bit of humor (hopefully) filled to the brim with 'accidents' for our poor elf, combining all our favorite leggy-angst into one small story. First posted story. Wanted to try my hand at a little humor.


Elfling's Bad Day!

Legolas woke up to a bright and beautiful sun shining in through the window. He stretched happily. Today was a beautiful day, and it was going to be a great day! He needed it after the troubles of yesterday, what with Elrond getting mad at him for being late to one of the meetings and the twins playing their pranks on him.

He got up and slipped his feet into the soft shoes on the side of his bed. He suddenly jerked his foot back in shock as he felt something move inside his shoe. Tucking his feet underneath him on the bed, he leaned his head over to look down at his shoe, surprised to see a spider come prancing out and slip beneath the bed. Thinking it was relatively safe now, the youth set about trying to get off the bed once more. However, the coverings got tangled in his foot, and the more he attempted to extricate himself, the more stuck he became.

Finally, when he yanked his foot away with all his might, the covers gave—a little too suddenly—and Legolas went flying off the bed, turned a spectacular flip-flop in the air that would have had the whole of Imladris exclaiming for weeks…nay months…and crashed down to land conveniently on the small table in the middle of the room, effectively splintering it into as many shreds as was possible for one piece of furniture to accomplish.

Strewn amongst the table that was now only good for kindling pieces, the young elf woefully pushed himself up to his knees, wincing against the ingrained pieces of wood now lodged in tender kneecaps.

He stumbled painfully to the bathing chambers to wash for the day. After washing, he tried to carefully extricate the wood pieces, but accidentally jerked his hand in the process of pulling one out, smashing it against the wash bowl and slinging said bowl out the door into the middle of the bed chamber, where it landed with a loud clatter upside down next to the nice kindling pieces Legolas had gained in his room.

Now, a lovely pile of soapy water joined the shattered table. Sighing in frustration and nursing his now bruised and sore hand, he went back to taking out the pieces of wood. One spot managed to bleed quite heavily, forcing him to bandage it with the nearby towel.

Not a minute after it had been wrapped around his throbbing knee, the skin started burning with a terrifying heat. He quickly unwrapped it again, spying some type of powder on the towel. The twins had been up to their usual tricks. It was probably itching powder, but it did not go well on a fresh wound.

With no water left to rid the powder from his open cuts, he grabbed another cloth from the nearby closet, checking first to make sure it was prank-free, then covered his bleeding knee up once more—his now throbbing and fire-filled knee thanks to the powder. He did not have time to think about revenge now, though. Elrond was going to be fierce if he was tardy again.

He stumbled out to his room to get a fresh change of clothes. He was going to be late for the council meeting if he did not hurry, and he had yet to make it to breakfast. The closet was near the bathing chamber, so he quickly found a fresh set of clothes, yanking them on, along with socks and boots.

He hurried across the room to grab the knives he never went without, but the sole of his boot slid on a spot of water that the youth had forgotten was there. Scrambling desperately for balance, he was unsuccessful as his aching knee refused to accommodate the strain.

He went skidding across the room, his feet finally sliding out behind him, effectively slamming his head forcefully into the cloak hooks and shelving on the wall. He slumped to the ground, dazed and confused for a few moments. "Must get up…" he thought erratically, "Elrond will kill me if I'm late again…"

He finally managed to pull himself back up, blinking heavily against the dizziness. His burning knee gave out on him once more before he managed to pull himself back up, sending him stumbling back against the lower shelf and cracking a rib—perhaps several—in his back, though he did not yet realize that was what had happened. All he could think of was getting to the meeting in time so Elrond would not get angry with him.

He finally made it breathlessly to the table where his knives were lying. Gaining his feet, he managed to sway back to the door with knives in hand as he fiddled impatiently with the belt before stuffing them in their scabbards. Before he had quite managed to place them in their appropriate spots, however, his feet hit another patch of slippery water, sending elf and knives flying once more into a tumble on the ground. The elf groaned, laying his head on the floor as he coughed from the force of the fall that had sent his chest smashing against the ground.

The graceful being rose slowly into a sitting position, realizing that his entire tunic sleeve was soaking wet from the water and his arm felt numbed from the ice-cold wetness. Registering that he was going to be really late, he decided that a wet sleeve never hurt anyone, scooped his knives up and yanked them fully into their scabbards this time, and crawled on his hands and aching knees to the door, hoping to escape his room without any more slips.

He had just reached the door when there was a sudden knock and the door slammed open, smashing into his already throbbing head and sending him crashing back against the low-set shelf underneath the cloak hooks, the shelf again smashing into the back of his ribs, cracking several more in the process.

He forced his heavy eyes back open and saw a gaping Glorfindel looking down at his slumped form on the ground. "I am sorry, young one! I did not expect you to be behind the door!"

"It is no matter, my Lord. I have a hard head," joked the young elf feebly, his voice breathless as he tried to swallow the pain emanating from his throbbing back.

"I was sent by Elrond to get you. You are late for the meeting."

Legolas sighed, making his way rather unsteadily to his feet. Glorfindel made his way over to assist him, but missed seeing the stains of water on the floor. His own feet slid out from under him, sending him careening wildly with flailing arms into the still-rising elf-child. As booted feet crashed jarringly into the front of his ribs, the youth flew back once more into the shelf and cloak hooks and fell with a gasp.

The elder elf groaned and tried to get up, grabbing onto Legolas' arm to help both of them at the same time. He happened to grab the soaking wet sleeve, and the surprise at the unexpected wetness caused the elder elf's grip to slip, yanking hard on the sleeve and sending them both back into a careless tumble on the ground, with the heavier Glorfindel now on top of the lighter elf, thoroughly squashing what little breath he had left out of him.

As Legolas lay there gasping from the new waves of pain spreading throughout his back and chest, the older elf tried once more to gain his feet, only to slip again in the now water-soaked floor. As he crashed back into the younger elf, the force sent the latter spinning wildly into the middle of the room, effectively jamming more wooden sticks from the splintered table into the youth's back and sides. Legolas lay there dazed and blinking against the pain and his increased breathlessness from the cracked ribs. Glorfindel was also stunned, and they both lay there for a moment.

They were making a desperate attempt once more to rise, when the twins came barreling in. "Legolas!" Elladan called. "Ada is getting upset at your…" the rest of the words were lost among the crashing sounds as both twins slipped in the water, skid rather quickly across the floor, and tumbled head over heels over the two leaning elves on the floor.

Apologizing profusely, the heretofore unhurt twins tried to gain their feet and lend a helping hand to the other two elves, when the now unstable shelves and cloak hooks finally came loose from the weakened and cracked wall, crashing down on top of all of the prone elves, stunning them for a moment.

Elrohir shoved his own portion of the wall off of him and shakily rose to his feet, leaning down to offer a hand to his twin; which was a mistake, as the younger twin's feet slid once more out from under him, sending the entire pile of elves sliding across the floor to smash into the bed.

Legolas, who had luckily managed to end up at the very bottom of the elf pile, meaning that his shoulder connected first with the hard, steel floor corner of the bed, thoroughly breaking it (the shoulder, not the bed), attempted to blink the blackness away long enough to look up at the glazed eyes of the younger twin with a desperately pleading look on his previously fair face. "Elrohir, I beg of you, do not attempt to get up any more…"

All three older elves shook away the shock of the incident and managed their first look at the younger elf. "Legolas!" Glorfindel yelled in surprise. "What has happened?"

The younger elf looked a wreck. Bruises and bumps covered his forehead and cheeks, with one bump on the forehead bleeding heavily. One arm was clasped tightly around his chest like a lifeline. His fresh clothes were water-stained and rumpled, one of his sleeves was drenched in blood from the knife that had deeply cut his arm when he mistook it earlier for water, the knees on his leggings were both stained a deep red, and the elf was literally shaking all over, his face pale with pain and shock.

"I think," said the young elf as his eyes began to drift closed, "that I shall skip the council meeting today…today is not a good day for a council meeting…" As he drifted off into blackness, the young elf thought with a slight smile that at least he would be safe from falling any more.

The three older elves thoroughly panicked at the sight of the young elf slipping into unconsciousness. Anxious to check him over for injuries, the three scrabbled around at the same time, only to slip once more and send _all_ of them sliding back into the middle of the room—including the now unconscious wood elf, who thankfully was not awake to feel more wood splinters jam into the front of his already bruised ribs and stomach, since he had gotten turned over in the slide.

Stunned once more, the three elves were still for a moment—sprawled out on the floor— as they tried to come to terms with what exactly was happening and think up a viable plan of escape. "The floor is obviously too slippery. Let us help each other up on our knees, and we will avoid standing until we are out of this room," said the wise elder twin. Agreeing, they all three grabbed onto each other and managed to gain a sitting position on their knees.

Smiling proudly at each other, they were just about to refocus their attentions on the still unconscious wood elf when Elrond came slamming into the room. "I sent you all to get Legolas, and now you are ALL playing truant from the meeting?" he yelled angrily. "What in Arda is wrong with all…"

"NO ADA!" the twins yelled frantically. "Do not come into the…"

The rest of the words were lost as Elrond's feet slipped out from under him. The elven lords' arms waved frantically as he tried unsuccessfully to gain his balance. He slid and skid around on the floor and almost managed to grab onto the dresser when one foot went flying up into the air, sending him effectively sliding across the floor and crashing into the pile of elves in the middle of the room, bowling them all back down into an aching tumble on the floor.

There was complete silence for a few moments, then, "Elrond, I believe it best if you cancel the meeting today. You have more important matters to take care of…" said the blonde Balrog slayer, blood dripping down into his eyes from the large piece of wood stuck in his forehead.

"Like patients…" groaned Elladan as he gingerly tried to pop his dislocated shoulder back into place unsuccessfully.

"With broken arms…" agreed the younger twin as he groaned and clasped his twisted forearm to his aching body.

"And what appears to be dead wood elves," suggested the elder twin next as he held up Legolas' lifeless arm that was dripping a steady stream of blood down onto the rest of them.

Elrond held his own throbbing head and just stared at them. "You have all lost your minds…" he said, the concussion he had gained causing him to be a little erratic. "You have not even gone on a hunting trip. This is just not possible…"

"Well," said Glorfindel, "possible or not, I fear we are stuck here—unless someone wants to volunteer to go for aid?" he raised a blonde, bloodied eyebrow hopefully.

"No!" chorused two panicked voices as Elrond continued to simply look at them like they were all insane.

"What is the matter with you all? Your legs are not broken. It is a simple matter just to get up and walk out of the room…" and the elder elf proceeded to do exactly that to show his sons.

"NO ADA!...NO ELROND!" the screams could be heard all the way into the Library, where Erestor was leisurely going through some resource books. He raised his head in surprise at the normally quiet and proper family screaming so loudly. His eyebrows rose even higher as he heard a series of thumps, crashes, and booms right afterwards, along with a final jarring that shook the entire foundations of the Last Homely House.

He sighed, laying aside his precious books and mentally kissing his peaceful afternoon goodbye as he rose to go and save the day once more.

Indeed, it was Erestor who managed to safely extricate all the elves from Legolas' room and sent the servants in to clean up the mess, including the smears of blood all over the floors and walls.

And it was Erestor who sat by each elf's side, holding their hand when they finally awoke and calmly explaining why they were in the Healing Houses and had to remain for at least a week.

It was also Erestor who worried and tended to the poor, nearly dead wood elf, nursing him tenderly back to some state of good health. When Legolas finally awoke two weeks later, his left arm was bandaged from wrist to shoulder, his right wrist was bandaged, both knees were bandaged, one still throbbing from the infection brought on by the itching powder, his broken ribs were heavily bandaged, the many infected cuts from the wood splinters were bandaged, and, of course, his heavily concussed head was bandaged. When Erestor could finally find his glazed blue eyes in between all of the white padding, he asked him calmly, "What happened, Legolas?"

The blue eyes managed to turn to peer confusedly at the elder elf. "It was a sunny, beautiful day…" he explained weakly, a strange and slightly insane look in his eyes. "Am I late for the meeting…?"


End file.
